All's Fair in Love, War, and Coffee
by FoxSparrow33
Summary: A series of drabbles, and drubbles, and dribbles on Castley, Casketty themes. Mostly humor/romance, with a dash of angst/suspense thrown in for spice. Finally reviving this one after a VERY long hiatus. (Sorry!) Chapter four: "Fathers." (New chapter contains spoilers for 5x16: "Hunt")
1. Coffee

The writing is mine, but the characters aren't. Alas!

Each chapter has a drabble, and a dribble (half a drabble), and a drubble (double drabble!) on a theme.

Chapters aren't chronological, but it all comes back to Castle and Beckett: glimpses of their 'ship' on the move.

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**Chapter One: Coffee**

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**Dribble (50 words): All's Fair**

Castle watched her sipping espresso, laughing with Demming, twirling her hair. This had all the markings of a break room romance, and Castle wasn't a part of it. But watching her there, Castle made up his mind: _You're on my turf now, Demming. _ _All's fair in love, war, and coffee…_

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**Drabble (100 words): Just a Hunch**

"Dad! It's not even 6:30! What are you doing up?"

Castle looked up from his laptop. "Hmmm? Oh, just had some ideas I wanted to get down before Beckett calls." He took the mug of hot coffee Alexis offered, smiling his thanks, and sipped.

"Let me guess," she said. "Rook's finally gotten the better of _Schlemming_, and Heat is thinking how manly and attractive Rook is?"

Alexis stifled a laugh as he nearly spit his coffee. But he'd been pounding his keyboard like had a grudge against it, wearing a big, goofy grin. She smiled. "Just a hunch," she said.

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**Drubble (200 words): Cold**

"_What _did you say to that man?"

Beckett looked up, startled.

"Say to _who?" _

Lanie gave her a look.

"Weeks now, that man's been on a mission, trying every trick in the book to win you over. And now suddenly I find him in the break room looking like someone whose dog just died. He says something about being glad you're so happy, that you deserve to be happy, and then walks right out of the station. So _what _did you say to him?"

"Nothing! I . . ."

Beckett looked down at her desk. There was coffee, there, long since cold. Castle must have brought it that morning, but she'd been too busy with Demming to notice.

Demming. He was handsome and smart, and a good man. A good cop. And – this was important – he was reliable. This morning in the hallway, she'd smiled, and they'd kissed... Castle must have seen.

_Reliable? _Was that what she'd been holding out for all this time? Was that what her mother's death had done to her?

_I'm glad that she's happy. She deserves to be happy._

Lanie looked down to see what Beckett was staring at.

"Looks like that coffee's gone cold."

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**Drubble (200 words): Just like a Child**

Standing in the break room, coffee in hand, Beckett had broken it off with Detective Tom Demming.

She didn't mention Castle, but Demming knew.

"He's just like a child!" Demming had exclaimed. "How can you even want that for yourself?"

_He's like a child… Yes. She's always thought so. But it's not just immaturity: she was wrong about that._

_He's playful_._ He lives in the moment, holds no grudges, loves unconditionally. He's brimming with enthusiasm at every little thing, because by some miracle the hurts in his life have not made him a cynic. He's been left and betrayed, but it hasn't changed him. Just being with him, she gains back something of herself that she'd lost long ago, something she'd thought was gone for good. _

_How could she want him?_

_He's like a child, yes. But he's no child. He's honest and strong, brilliant, generous, kind, and to Beckett's great surprise, _good _to his very core. Mischievous like a child, but he's no child. _

But these were thoughts she couldn't tell to Demming. Instead she looked up at him, smiling a bit sadly.

She placed her empty coffee cup in his hands, gently kissed his cheek, and walked away.

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**Please review! This is my first foray into writing for the fanfic world. Feedback is appreciated! **


	2. Point of View

**_The writing is mine, but the characters aren't. Alas! _**

_**Each chapter has a drabble, a dribble (half a drabble), and a drubble (double drabble!) on its theme. They don't move chronologically, but sooner or later it's all about Castle and Beckett.**

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**Chapter 2: Point of View**

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Blunt Object (Dribble: 50 words)

"Put it down, Castle."

"You're not even facing me! How did you …"

"That's evidence. Put it down."

He sighed, and Beckett hid a smile behind her hand. She'd caught his reflection in the window, but she'd known without seeing that he couldn't resist. The murder weapon was a lightsaber.

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Sighs (Drubble: 200 words)

Why couldn't he show any real commitment? Just a _little _maturity?

Beckett tossed her book onto the table with a frustrated sigh. It was _his _book, of course.

There was no use denying how much his writing had meant to her all these years, and it got harder every day to hide her attraction to the man himself. But she glared at the grinning portrait on _Heat Wave_'s back cover, and thought, _what good is it, letting that smile charm you, when there's no substance behind it?_ _He's a playboy. A womanizer. Two ex-wives behind him, and still he keeps fooling around, never committing to anything but having a good time. What's the good of falling for that?_

Beckett couldn't deal with more heartbreak. She wouldn't fall for a man who could only fail her.

And elsewhere in the city, Alexis Castle sighed too, and cried silently in her father's arms. Her mother had let them both down, yet again. But her dad held her close, chin resting on her head, reassuring his little girl. She wondered once more why so few people could see through that childish façade of his. Her dad was her rock. He'd never fail her.

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Walls (Drabble: 100 Words)

There were glimpses of the woman Kate Beckett had been, before the loss and unbearable grief. Not "Beckett," but _Kate. Katie._ Fun-loving, carefree Kate, "the biggest scofflaw at Stye." But after her mother's death, she'd put up walls.

There were glimpses of the man Rick Castle had been, before Kyra left him, and Meredith cheated, and Gina… Best not to think much on Gina. But sincerity leaves you open to pain, so now he mostly played the fool. Shallow playboys never feel heartbroken. He'd put up walls.

Yet they saw one another,

And each thought,

_Walls can be torn down…_

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**_Thank you so much to everyone who responded to chapter 1! Your feedback means the world. I've been having a lot of fun writing these, and I've definitely got a few more up my sleeve. Please keep on letting me know what you think! _**


	3. Secret Agents

The writing is mine, but the characters aren't. Alas!

Rumor has it there are more 'spy games' in Castle's and Beckett's future, and that little tidbit was the inspiration for the set of mini-fics in chapter three:

**Secret Agents**

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007 (a drubble: 200 Words)

Wine in hand, Beckett distractedly scanned her shelves, hoping something would grab her interest.

Not one of Castle's books, no. That would be a bad idea, tonight.

Cannel, Chandler, Chesterton, Doyle, Fleming, Patterson, Sayers, Stout…

Her eyes flitted back up to 'Fleming,' and she pulled "Dr. No" off the shelf. She'd first read it in high school, after getting hooked on the movies about a "Certain British Secret Agent." With a finger, she traced over the corny cover art, feeling every wrinkle in the battered paper. Books had brought Rick Castle into her world. Now these books were taking him back out of it.

Castle had thought she'd be _relieved. _

Well, she _was_, wasn't she?

For him, continuing Fleming's series would be a childhood dream-come-true. For her, it was the exit strategy she'd wanted all along. She'd never asked to have him tagging along like a lost puppy, getting under her feet and under her skin, mocking, making her coffee, making her laugh, brightening her day…

No – she was _not_ thinking that! This was a relief. A _good_ thing. Right?

_Right? _

She paused, then pushed "Dr. No" back into its slot. Perhaps this was a "Heat Wave" night after all…

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Spy Games (a drabble: 100 words)

_He ducked behind the pillar just as the rifle blast sounded. _

"_It's useless! You're cover is blown; you have no exit. Give us the file!"_

"_Never!" he shouted, and returned fire with a rolling dive. If he could just reach that low wall…_

_He didn't see the second agent until it was too late. Something slammed into his chest. He looked down to see a bright red stain…_

"Awww, man…. Alexis, you were supposed to be on _my_ team!"

Beckett dropped her paintball gun and, laughing, helped him up.

"What can I say, Castle? Your daughter makes a terrific double-agent!"

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Stealth (a dribble: 50 Words)

"Seriously! You saw how Agent Grey just vanished the moment our heads were turned? SO cool. I'm getting him to teach me that!"

"You don't know already?" asked Beckett

"Know what?"

"That."

Castle looked where Beckett was pointing. When he turned back, she was gone.

"Now _that's hot…" _he breathed.

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**As always, feedback is greatly appreciated. Much thanks to everyone who's read and commented so far! **


	4. Fathers

_Author's Note: It's been FAR too long since I last sat down to write, for this story or for anything else, but a few drabbles (etc.) seemed like the right place to dip a toe back in the water. Many thanks to Twisha for encouraging me to get back on the figurative horse, even after nearly three years!_

_Spoilers for "Hunt" in this chapter. _

**Chapter 4: Fathers**

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**Drabble (100 words): Long Distance**

He was a failure as a father, of course. He'd known he could only ever be a failure, not merely distant but invisible in his only son's life. But he'd watched Rick, all the same. He'd kept an eye on Rick and Martha both, and on anyone who got close to them. And so the boyfriend who'd raised his fist to Martha had abruptly decided to leave town, and the alcoholic nanny gave notice and chose another line of work, and Hunt only hoped the pain caused by his absence wasn't worse still than whatever his anonymous vigilance spared them.

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**Drubble (200 words): No regrets**

A father will do anything to protect his family. He'll risk all he has for them, risk his very life, walk into the lion's den, yell his challenge to the gods. And for family, when they are hurting and afraid, sometimes a father will do more. Kill for them. Leave a man dead, his fingers each broken, nails pulled out. Ignore the screams and pleading eyes, until a kill-shot's reprieve. Then take the nightmares that always follow, so that family won't have to. Take their fear, as a father should. Pray the stains on his own soul will never touch them.

"Jackson Hunt" knew he would never - _could_ never regret that choice.

And yet…

The text from his sources confirmed what he'd guessed: the NYPD had caught up with the wounded kidnapper, just as they'd reported, but that terrified man had flatly refused to talk. And so off the record, another father had made a choice, and when the door closed behind him, he too had ignored the screaming. _For family. _

Hunt closed his eyes, and swallowed the emotion.

They'd have this too in common now, he and his son:

There would be nightmares later on, but no regrets.

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**Dribble (50 words): Maybe…**

He _could_ be an astronaut. Fireman. Cowboy. Inventor of canned whipped-cream…

The wildest theories were Rick's favorites:

_My dad's not here, but maybe…_

He picked up his new book, (suggested by a stranger earlier that day).

… _Maybe it's 'cause he's a spy._

The boy smiled, and started to read.


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